The Way It Really Happened
by CallingMidnight
Summary: Are you plagued by unsightly nosehairs? Don't know what to do about those nasty zits? Do your toes host a strange looking fungus? Then you might want to see a doctor. But in the meantime, read my story, it might just amuse you!
1. Retpahc Eltit

_A/N: Just to explain. I've decided to take the first chapter from the first HP book, and write my OWN version of what happens! Whether I do more chapters depends on whether I feel like it or not. So read and enjoy or suffer the consequences!_

**Disclaimer: I own the characters and stuff in my dreams...does that count?**

-----------The Boy Who Lived------------

"Where have you been!" Minerva McGonagall fumed, changing from a cat into a very prickly old woman. "You should have been here an hour ago!" She marched across the dimly lit Privet Drive, and glared at a very old man standing a few feet away. He looked up at her, his eyes red and bloodshot. He looked horrible. It was Albus Dumbledore.

He stood there for a long moment. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Finally he gave a very loud sigh and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

"There's something I must tell you…" he said, very slowly and rather blurrily. Minerva straightened, feeling tense.

"Yes?" she whispered in anticipation. "Yes, what is it?"

"Come closer," he slurred. She obeyed. "Closer." She obeyed again. Finally he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I'm not wearing socks!" he whispered, giggling. Minerva leapt back, aghast.

"You're drunk again!" she hissed. "Look at the example you're setting for your students!"

"Oh, calm down and keep your shirt on…" and then he grimaced, wrinkling his nose as though he had just thought of something. "Yeah…definitely keep our shirt on."

"Do you even know what happened to the Potters?" Minerva snapped. Dumbledore chewed on his lips, concentrating hard.

"Potter…Potter…it rings a bell…" he said, trying to recall them.

"Lily, James, Harry!" Minerva yelled, trying to jog his memory. Then his face came alight with realization.

"Oh yeah, capital people," he said, nodding sloppily. "Especially Lily…man, what a body! And those blue eyes of hers were wonderful!"

"Her eyes were green you idiot! And what do you mean, _were_?" Minerva said, her eyes narrowing. Dumbledore looked up, as though surprised to see her there.

"What? Oh, yeah…about that," he said uncomfortably. "It was the craziest thing!"

"What? What are you talking about?" she asked urgently. Dumbledore shuffled his feet slightly, kicking around a little pebble.

"Well, you see, it was just one of those days. Kind of slow at the school, so I…left-and-got-into-a-game-of-poker-with-Voldemort," he said, saying the last bit very quickly. Minerva's eyes flashed. "And so I kinda-sorta bet their lives. You know, just one of those little flings!"

"YOU BET THE POTTER'S LIVES!" Minerva screeched.

"Hey, there's no need to get all huffy about it!" Dumbledore said, folding his arms.

"So what happened then? How are the Potters!" she asked. Dumbledore looked up, raising his eyes.

"Potter…Potter, now I just heard that name _somewhere_," he said rubbing his chin. Just when Minerva looked ready to strangle him, he gasped. "Oh yeah!" he said, laughing. "Well, I'm afraid they've been incapacitated. You know, we'll have to feed them and bathe them everyday, stuff like that," he explained. Minerva looked horrified.

"Wh…What?" she said, looking ready to cry. Then Albus gave a barking laugh.

"Ha! I had ya there for a second. Oh, you are SO gullible! Oh my gosh, I _so_ had you going there. Man what a kick! No, no, don't worry, that didn't really happen. They're actually dead."

Silence.

"WHAT!" Minerva said, and she began to cry. Albus rolled his eyes then, giving a great sigh.

"Geez, you are _so_ emotional tonight. Is it that time of the month or something?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"You are so insensitive!" she huffed. "Don't you even care about them?"

"Who?"

"The Potters!"

"Potter…Potter…rings a bell," Albus said.

"What do we do now?" she asked, sitting down on the wall in desolation.

"Oh! Don't worry about that. Hagrid's bringing Harry," Albus explained.

"I thought you said he was dead!" Minerva raged, standing back up again.

"Oh yeah. Forgot to mention that he survived, and defeated the most evil wizard on the face of the earth."

"Are you serious?" she asked, clutching her hands together, tears rolling down her face. Then they both heard footsteps pounding towards them. Albus looked around, frowning.

"NO! I'M SIRIUS!" yelled the voice, just as Sirius Black reached them, panting and out of breath.

"What?" Minerva asked, looking flustered.

"Oh, come on!" he said, rolling his eyes. "This is fan fiction, right?" he asked, as though talking to a two year old.

"Yeah…" Albus said, as both he and Minerva looked on in confusion. "So?"

"So whenever anybody says 'I'm serious,' I'm supposed to make the joke, 'No, I'm Sirius!'" he explained. "Come on. It's in _every_ fan story! Don't you two read?"

Just then a voice floated through the air, as if coming from the sky. "I'm serious!" said the voice. Sirius gave a groan. "Damn!" he muttered. "Sorry, I gotta fly. There's _another_ fan fiction with me saying that, and that's my cue."

"Wait…what about Lily and James?" Minerva asked, still very confused.

"Don't worry, I'll be back in time to be wrongfully accused," Sirius assured. Minerva nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Alright, but if you're late, we are totally grounding you," Albus said. With that, Sirius began running in the opposite direction, and he could be heard yelling, "No! I'm Sirius!"

Minerva looked around, and then noticed something. "Oh god, Albus! We need to hide ourselves better! The Muggles could be watching!"

"Got it covered," Albus said slyly, and pulled a little metal contraption from his beard.

"Did you just pull that from…?" Minerva asked slowly. Albus grinned.

"You'd be surprised at the stuff I've got in this baby," he said, patting his huge beard. "Hungry? I think I've even got some of last night's dinner somewhere…"

"The Muggles, Albus. Focus on that."

"Oh, right," Albus said, and then began clicking the odd contraption. With each click, the lights in the lampposts went out. Soon all was darkness. Minerva raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Got it at Radio Shack," he explained, stuffing the put-outer thing back in his beard. "Only five bucks!"

"I see," Minerva said, and then her eyes narrowed as she watched him putting something in his mouth. "What are you eating?" He froze like a deer in headlights.

"Uhh…lemon drops…" he said slowly. "Want some?"

"Those aren't lemon drops are they?" she said, shaking her head. He looked around for something to distract her, knowing she wouldn't approve if she found out what it really was.

"Look! A flying motorcycle!" he yelled, pointing up at the sky. Minerva placed her hands on her hips.

"If you think that I'm going to fall for that one you're-" she began, but Dumbledore never found out exactly what he was, as she was soon landed on by the flying motorcycle. A huge man was riding atop it, holding a little bundle of blankets in his hands. He looked down at Minerva, and gave a wild gasp.

"Uh-oh!" he said, leaping off the bike and nearly falling over in his haste. "Sorry, Professor! I didn' mean ter!"

"Man, how am I going to explain this to everybody now!" Albus fumed. "Ah well. I'll just find some other stuck-up old hag to take her place. Nobody'll know the difference."

"Righ' you are, Head Master," Hagrid agreed, rather stupidly. "I brought Li'l Harry, fer ya."

"Oh…right," Albus said, nodding. He walked over to the pile of blankets in Hagrid's arms. He moved a blanket out of the way, so as to see his face, and then he swore loudly. "Hagrid! This isn't Harry!"

"Wha'?" Hagrid said, horrified.

"The real Harry should have a scar on his forehead!" Albus explained. Then Hagrid burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, Professor! I dropped the li'l tike as we were flying ov'r Bristol!" he wailed loudly. "So I just took this one instead." Albus stood still, thinking very hard. Then he smiled as an idea came to him. He suddenly reached into his beard and pulled out a permanent marker.

"Here. I'll just draw it on! What shape should I make it?" Albus asked, thinking.

"Ooh! Ooh! Make it a lightening bolt!" Hagrid said, jumping up and down with his hand in the air. Albus nodded, and bent over the child. When he came back up, he had a bolt of lightening across his forehead. "Wait…it's off-cen'r," Hagrid said, leaning closer. Albus took a closer look too.

"Oh, you're right. Oh well, they're going to make it off-center in the movies anyways," he said, shrugging. "Now…which family should we give him to?" Albus looked around. "Eeny, meeny, miney, mo," he said, pointing to a different house with each word. "Aha! That one!"

"The Dursleys?" Hagrid asked, reading the mailbox. Albus shrugged. "Shouldn' we leave a note?"

"Yeah, I s'pose," Albus said, pulling a piece of parchment from his beard, soon he was scribbling away on it.

"Whatcha writin'?" Hagrid asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Put…your…left…foot…in…take…your…left…foot…out…" Albus was muttering as he wrote it down. Hagrid frowned.

"That don't make any sense," he said uncertainly. Albus ignored him, however, and kept scribbling away.

"And…shake…it…all…about…" Albus finally finished. "There. And of course it doesn't make sense. It doesn't have to! None of the readers are going to know what the letter says until book six or seven anyways!" he defended. "Man, you need to lighten up," he said, rolling his eyes. And then, looking around, he pulled something else out of his beard. "Lemon drop?"

"No thanks, Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid said anxiously. "Le's get it ov'r with," he said, starting to choke up. Within minutes the baby was laying curled up on the doorstep. Albus and Hagrid stood there for quite sometime.

"Yup," Albus said.

"Yeeeeep," Hagrid muttered.

"Uh-huh," Albus agreed.

"So…what do we do now?" Hagrid asked, leaning against the bike. It squished slightly as more weight was added to the mangled Minerva McGonagall.

"What do you mean?" Albus asked.

"Well, this story has to end sometime," Hagrid said. "I mean come on. It sucks enough as it is."

"Yeah…good point. Want to go get a beer?"

"Cool."

A/N: Wow? You're still here? You mean you didn't leave the story after the first few sentences? I'm impressed. This was really different for me to write. If you're familiar with any of my other stuff, you'll notice that I don't have any other humor fics posted. To see the reason, read the above story. Leave me a review…. Lemon Drop anybody?


	2. The Vanishing Humor

Harry Potter gave a small smile and sat up from his bed in the cupboard under the stairs. He had been offered the second bed upstairs, but had politely declined, knowing that it would be much more dramatic if he slept under the stairs. More tragic, he thought.

So, picking up broken glasses and placing them on his face, he looked around at the spider ridden room. He watched slowly as one of the small bugs crawled towards him.

"Hello, little fellow," Harry said. It was an odd looking spider. It looked almost…radioactive. So, leaning over a bit, he peered at it anxiously. "You're rather odd looking, aren't you?" he asked it. It said nothing, to which he was grateful. He wasn't ready for talking spiders quite yet. The small spider scuttled towards his hand, and Harry didn't protest as it crawled onto his skin and prepared to bite him. Suddenly, however, there was a horrible knocking on the door, and a skinny boy with glasses much like Harry's barged in. He was scowling, and shaking his head. He quickly snatched up the spider.

"Come on, you can't have two plots!" the boy said. He was around seventeen or eighteen, perhaps. Harry was quite nonplussed, and stared in shock. 

"What are you on about?" he asked, bewildered. The boy rolled his eyes.

"Come on. You're a geeky kid, I'm a geeky kid. One of has to be Spider Man, and the other has to be Harry Potter!" the boy said. "And since you're already in this house, you have to be Harry Potter!"

"Wait a second," Harry said. "I'd rather have the Spider Man plot. It ends better!"

"How do you know?" the boy asked, presumably Spider Man. "The Harry Potter Series hasn't even ended yet!"

"Well, come on, we all know I'm going to die," Harry said, putting his hands on his hips. The other boy gave a cat-like grin.

"Maybe. But I'm not going to take any chances, that's why-OUCH!" he yelled, dropping the spider he'd been holding onto. He gave a laugh, looking at a spider bite he'd received. "Ha! Now I'm Spider Man!"

"No fair!" Harry said, standing up and hitting the top of his head on the low ceiling. Spider Man gave a shrug.

"Tough luck, kiddo. But now you've got your life all figured out, I suggest you start it, the readers are bound to be getting bored."

"Yeah, they're probably confused too," Harry said, shaking his head. "This damn writer doesn't know what the hell she's doing."

"We've all got our problems," Spider Man said, starting to leave. "See you around. And remember, 'With great power comes great responsibility.'"

"Uh…right," Harry said. "Bye." And without another word, Spider Man left, sporting a spider bite, and looking as nerdy as ever. Harry Potter left his room, now irreversibly stuck with this particularly gruesome part in the story of his life, and rather depressed about it. He walked down the spotless hallway, which was always kept clean by Aunt Petunia, and into the kitchen, where his family sat at the kitchen table. Aunt Petunia looked rather like a horse, with a long neck and teeth much too large for her face. Her small eyes darted around, passing butter and ketchup, and then going back to her plate of eggs and bacon. Uncle Vernon sat beside her, and he resembled a walrus. Hiss large mustache and lack of neck made him more than a little over-whelming. Sitting next to Vernon, was a large round beach ball.

Next to the beach ball was Harry's cousin, Dudley. Dudley was a smaller version of his father, and Harry's least favorite member of the family. He was the reason for Harry's broken glasses and skinny physique. Dudley ate everything in sight, and was right now in the process of sizing up the table, wondering if it might taste good with salt.

"Morning all," Harry said. The Dursley's ignored him, as ever, as they were all enthralled with breakfast. Harry didn't mind, however. He did notice a large pile of brightly colored packages lying on a table next to the counter. It was then that he remembered. Today was Dudley's birthday.

"I want to open my presents NOW!" Dudley screamed, and immediately Aunt Petunia jumped to do as he wished. In seconds presents were piled on the table, and Dudley began counting the presents. He came up with a sum Harry knew to be incorrect, and whined about it until his family decided to buy him extra presents later. Over breakfast, Harry gathered that Dudley was to be taking Piers Polkiss to the zoo with him, and they would spend the day there, as a birthday treat for Dudley.

"What should we do with the boy?" Vernon asked, gesturing at Harry.

"Well, we can't leave him here, or he might find my stash of wands and magical spellbooks and realize that I'm really just a witch," Petunia said stiffly. Everybody froze and stared at her. "I mean my cleaning supplies…."

"Right…" Vernon said, frowning. "Well, the fact is, we can't leave him alone. How about we leave him at that friend of yours?"

"Actually, she just so happens to be conveniently out of town," Petunia said, sipping at her tea. Harry's hopes rose.

"He has to go with us!" Dudley wailed. But just then the doorbell rang. Piers Polkiss came in. He was a smarmy looking fellow, and Harry dropped hating eyes upon the boy.

The next thing they knew, Harry, Dudley, and Piers were in the back of the car on the way to the zoo. Harry couldn't have been more pleased, as he'd never been before. 

"Hey everybody!" Harry said, randomly out of nowhere. "I had a dream about motorcycles last night!"

"MOTORCYLCES!" Vernon roared. " I LOVE motorcycles!"

"Really?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No, you're grounded for a week," Vernon hissed. "Here we are. Alright, we're not going to look at anything else, because Dudley wants to look at the snakes and there's nothing funny about any of the other animals."

"What do you mean?" Petunia asked.

"Well, this is a _humor_ fic, is it not?" Vernon asked heatedly.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't enjoy ourselves," she sniffed. "Besides, it's not all that funny."

The five of them walked into the reptile house, however, despite Aunt Petunia's workds, where they had snakes of all sizes. Ones that we're smaller than Harry's hand, and ones that were larger than Uncle Vernon's car. Harry decided to walk straight to the talkative one, and stood in front of the glass.

"Hey there," he said. "I know you can't understand me, but just on the off chance that you can, and just in case I'm speaking another language, go ahead and say something."

"Hi," hissed the snake. "What's up?"

"Not much," Harry said awkwardly. "What are you?"

"Well, I'm foreshadowing for the second book, but that doesn't mean we can't still be friends!" the snake said. 

"Sounds cool," Harry said. "So where are you from?" The snake pointed his tail at a little sign posted on the glass. "Whoa, I've never been to, 'Do Not Lean On Glass,' before. Is it nice?" Again the snake pointed at a sign below it. 'This specimen was bred in the zoo.' "That's a shame."

"Yeah," the snake said with a sigh. "Uh-oh, here comes a big fat kid."

"Yeah, that's my cousin," Harry said, and was knocked to the ground as the big fat kid came and elbowed him hard in the ribs. His glasses went askew, but he heard a scream, and put them back on just in time to see Dudley being wrapped tightly by the large snake. "Dudley! Run!" Harry screamed.

"His legs are caught by that snake!" Piers said pointedly.

"That doesn't mean he can't hear!" Harry said exasperatedly. "RUN!" he yelled again.

"Oh my! The glass just vanished!" said a breathless woman from behind them. Then she gave a scream and ran, however, as the snake finally gave up on Dudley, and began to slither through the snake exhibit.

As it passed Harry, he could have sworn it whispered, "Do Not Lean On Glass, here I come!" before leaving.

"Dudley! My Diddykins!" Petunia gasped as she came running forward. Vernon was puffing behind her.

"Are you alright, son?" he asked, heaving Dudley out of the snake tank. Dudley was shivering and whining like a frozen pig. "Come on, we're going to complain to somebody!"

"You should complain to Harry," Piers said. "He was the one talking to the snake. I heard him!"

"Nuh-uh!" Harry said, before leaning over to a snake in another take and whispering, "play along."

"See!" Piers said. Vernon sighed. "I'll deal with you later!" he hissed, and led them all towards the main lobby.

As they walked along, Harry thought furiously. What had just happened? Could he really talk to snakes? And how had that glass completely vanished? Did he do that? Or was he just going insane? Why was he asking all these questions? Was he actually expecting the readers to answer it for him? And how on earth was he going to end this chapter?

This last question troubled him most, and he donned a thinking position. How to end the chapter…how to end the chapter…. Well, conclusions are normally supposed to be shocking and awe-inspiring. Maybe if he just thought about it ending, he wouldn't really even have to do anything special. If he just focused on an end it wou

A/N: Yeah, this chapter was probably pretty boring, but I was sort of lost for ideas for the second chapter. Nothing really stuck out at me as a funny idea, so I really didn't know what to do with it, except to get through it so that I can get to chapter three and try and spice that one up. So yeah, leave a review saying how much you utterly adore it or absolutely hate it. Ta.


	3. The Unwitty Chapter TitlePart Eins

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Mary. She had long, blonde, curly hair, and bright blue eyes. She had a smile like a sugar drop, and her giggle was like wind through the trees. She had a perfect life, and a perfect family. As she woke up one groggy morning, she stretched and yawned. Sitting up, she noticed that her hair was in perfect position, and her breath didn't smell at all. Getting out of bed, the door to her bedroom opened.

Her mother walked in, as beautiful as any mother could possibly be. She shared Mary's blue eyes and blonde hair. In her dainty hands, she was carrying a breakfast tray.

"Here you are, Mary, dearest. I have brought you some breakfast," her mother said with a smile. "Your father is out hunting in the forest, catching some fat rabbits for supper!"

"Oh, thank you so very much, sweet mother!" Mary said with a bright smile and drifted over to the wonderful smelling food. "May I help you with the chores today?"

"Oh, no! You must play in the fields of flowers with your friends!" her mother said, hugging her daughter. After a few minutes of small talk, Mary gave a small smile, and a contented sigh. Just then, however, somebody burst through the door, looking very angry.

"Oh, pahlease!" said a bespectacled boy. "How many times do we have to read about you!"

Mary gave a small gasp, putting a hand to her mouth. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Mary-Sue," the boy said, his eyes narrowed. "I know you all too well!"

Mary clung to her mother, her small rosy lips puckered in dainty fear. "Mother! I'm frightened."

"Don't worry, dear," the mother said soothingly. "Who are you?"

"Listen, lady," the boy said. "I'm Harry Potter, and I'd be really grateful if you'd get the hell out of my stories."

"Harry Potter?" Mary said, and her eyes widened. "Oh! I know you!" she said excitedly.

"Of course you do!" Harry said exasperatedly. "You only wiggle your way into any story you can find!"

"But I love you! Marry me!" she said and flung herself into his arms. He looked revolted.

"Get off me, and get out of this story! It sucks enough without you in it!" he bellowed, and he threw her to the ground. In the instant that she fell, she scraped her elbow, and a red mark appeared there. For moments nobody moved, and silence reigned.

"What have you done…" whispered the mother, as she ran from the room. Harry stared at Mary, as she sat there, looking at the ground. Slowly, she began to raise her head, and Harry's eyes widened. Her teeth seemed to have grown over her lips in terrifying fangs, and her eyes were now beet red. She leapt from the floor with a feral snarl. Harry pulled out his wand and brandished it at her.

"Stay back!" he yelled. "No Mary-Sue!"

"I WILL RULE ALL FAN FICTION!" she screamed. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Not while I'm around," he said. He then did the thing he knew would work for sure. "What's your favorite color?"

"I…don't know…" she said, frowning.

"Do you like sugar in your coffee?" Harry bellowed. She gasped and clutched at her heart.

"I don't know!"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY ORIGINAL PERSONALITY QUIRKS?" Harry screamed. Mary dropped to the ground, writhing. Harry knew what he had to do next.

"Mary…" he whispered vehemently. "What's your worst subject?"

She gave a shrill shriek of terror. "I DON'T HAVE ONE!" she cried, and with a loud bang she vanished. Harry dropped to his knees and began breathing hard. Harry heard the door creak as Mary's mother slowly entered.

"Is she…?" the mother whispered.

"Gone," Harry said triumphantly. The mother gave a sigh of relief and ripped off her blonde hair. Harry realized it had been a wig with a jolt. Next her mother drew out a cigarette and lit it, smiling vaguely.

"Thanks, kid," she mumbled, and exhaled smoke. "Seeya around."

"See you," Harry said uncertainly, and watched as she ripped off her pretty dress to reveal biker clothes. She then ran out the door, jumped on a motorcycle that had been leaning conveniently against the house, and rode away. Harry didn't move for a while, and then the surroundings began to fade. Soon he was sitting in his cupboard under the stairs, being punished for the snake incident.

"Breakfast!" snapped a cold voice from just outside, and he heard the lock unclick. Harry jumped on the occasion, and tumbled out of the room. He was surprised to see that he wasn't in his house, but in a frosty winterland. His eyes widened, and he gave a huge smile. He had left Privet Drive! He didn't know quite where he was but he didn't care. That is, he didn't care until a strange creature approached him. It was half goat, half man. The creature was followed by a large lion. He stared at Harry, who had suddenly frozen.

"I am Aslan!" the lion said, nearly knocking Harry off his feet. "Wait a second…who are you?" But Harry had just understood. He rolled his eyes.

"Alright, listen. The narrator must be drunk again. Sorry I'm not in the right story….AGAIN!"

"What?" the lion asked, sitting down.

"I'm from Harry Potter, NOT NARNIA!" he screamed to the sky. "This is The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, right?"

"yeah…" Aslan said uncertainly.

"I thought so. Anyways, I've got to go then," he said, and then bellowed to the sky again. "EXCUSE ME! I'D LIKE TO GO BACK TO MY OWN STORY, THANKS!" and suddenly Harry was gone from the cold, white story and placed back in his cupboard. "Right, he muttered. "Let's try this again."

This time he opened the door, and was back in the hallway of his aunt and uncle's house. Giving a sigh, he walked down into the kitchen.

"Where have you been?" Aunt Petunia snapped.

"Narnia," Harry said wearily, sitting down.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU! STAY IN YOUR OWN STORY!" Vernon roared loudly.

"I couldn't help it!" Harry said, and got up from the table before Vernon could grab a hold of him. He walked over to the sink, where aunt Petunia was skinning a dead elephant. "Erm…what's that?" he asked.

"Don't inquire," she said.

"Actually, you're supposed to say, 'don't ask questions,'" Harry pointed out. Petunia glared at him, and continued to skin the animal. "So…."

"It's your new school uniform," Petunia snapped, before he could ask again.

"A skinned elephant?" Harry said a little shocked. "I didn't think it was supposed to be so…wet…" he said.

"Don't be stupid!" she hissed. "The blood will be gone within a few days." Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. His eyes were brought back to the kitchen table, however, as Dudley entered, wearing his own school uniform. Dudley would be going to Smeltings, the school Vernon had gone to.

"Oh! My ickle Duddy"!" Petunia wailed upon seeing him. Harry noticed his outfit was bright and colorful, and he was holding a gun with the word "Smelting" written on it.

"Uh…what's that?" Harry asked, looking apprehensively at the gun.

"It's my Smelting gun. We can use it to shoot people when the teachers aren't looking!" Dudley said excitedly.

"Wouldn't a tick be more practical?" Harry asked.

"Shut up!" Vernon said, having heard enough of Harry. "Go get the mail, Dudley!"

"Make Harry get it!" Dudley whined.

"Harry, get the mail!" Vernon said.

"Make the skinned elephant get it!" Harry said.

"Get the mail, skinned elephant!" Vernon roared. When there was no answer he grew angry. "What's wrong with the elephant?"

"It's deaf," Aunt Petunia said sadly, looking at the dead elephant in her sink. "I tried to get it to move to the left earlier, it completely ignored me!"

"Fine, since the skinned elephant is deaf, you go get the mail, Harry," Vernon said.

TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
